


Sarkan Uprooted

by lambdse



Category: Uprooted - Naomi Novik
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 22:17:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7407307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lambdse/pseuds/lambdse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarkan is trying to do his job cleaning up the capital in the aftermath of the events in the Wood, but he can't stay focused...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sarkan Uprooted

**Author's Note:**

> Semi-spoilers, so I recommend reading this after you finish the book.
> 
> I also posted this on FanFiction.com, but I just got my Archive of Our Own account! Yay!

The Dragon sat at his desk in the capital staring at the charts and notes he'd created. Names, interactions, lists. Ridding the city of corruption was taking longer than he had anticipated. The Wood-queen had sowed her seeds and plentifully. Solya had been of some use, but mainly he wished that Alosha would recover and speed up the process. He had forgotten how tedious court life was. Moreover, he had forgotten how annoying it was to interact with people on a daily basis. He wished for the simplicity of his solitary tower, where he answered to no one but himself. Well, that was how it used to be.. He wondered if she'd tidied up the tower in his absence. She had said she was going back into the Wood, but surely she wouldn't just let it crumble. He cringed thinking of the haphazard patch job she probably threw together. His mind filled with an image of a listing minaret, cobbled together with odd bits of rock and twigs. In truth this tower would probably blend better with the surrounding mountains.. the whispering trees and gurgling water…

He scowled and shook his head. Blast this intolerable connection. This ridiculous yearning. He shouldn't have drunk from the Spindle. But it had been the only way. For all his power, he wouldn't have been strong enough to save her. He saw her again, burning and screaming as the bark closed over her face.

He sighed. She was fine, surely. He had other things to worry about. More important things. Pertinent to the well-being of the kingdom. He couldn't get distracted. Straightening up a little, he returned to his notes.

He stared at the pages, eyes becoming unfocused in the flickering candlelight; his mind returning to another candlelit night…

Groaning, he slouched in his chair, defeated. Sure. Fine. He was lonely. But just a little, he scowled. That damned water made him soft. He looked up at his empty chamber. Too empty, too still.

Letting his magic flow, he began crafting her likeness standing next to his desk. To his eternal annoyance, he still didn't understand how she had made contact with him from the capital. She had said it was using the illusion spell, but that couldn't be right. He didn't want to talk to her anyway. Certainly not. An illusion of her watching him would be enough; something to fill the emptiness. Then he would get back to work.

Finished, he observed his creation. She stood demurely gazing at him, hands crossed in front of her. He frowned. Something wasn't quite right. He had put her in one of her beloved (plebeian) homespun gowns, but it wasn't her. Realizing the flaw, he rolled his eyes and waved his hand in her direction. The homespun gown became stained five inches deep with mud, the sleeves torn in places. Her neatly braided hair fell to the side, looking wind-blown and tangled. Her modest expression shaping into mild humor, eyes twinkling with laughter. And suddenly there she was.

His eyes widened with surprise. The smell of trees and fresh earth and sunshine filling the room. She let out a breathy laugh, "Sarkan." She walked toward him abruptly, bumping into the desk and tumbling his neatly arranged possessions. His glass of wine fell with a crash, a dark red stain spreading over his detailed lists. Two potion bottles lurched toward the stone floor, and he lunged, grabbing them out of the air. Angrily, he sat up, snarling, "Can't you move without breaking something!?" But she was gone. In his shock, he had dropped the spell, and his chamber was silent and empty once more.

He looked down at his mess of a desk and couldn't help but smile.


End file.
